


The Phone Call

by Khylara



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Sherlock recieves a phone call from Mycroft asking him to do something he definitely doesn't want to do.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	The Phone Call

There was a bunch of carnations sitting by John's usual chair. 

He fingered one of the bright red blossoms, a fond smile crossing his face. "Sherlock," he called, smiling as his lover flipped through the pages in his book. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," Sherlock said as he put his book aside and went over to John. He slid his arms around the doctor's waist, holding him close. He laid his cheek against John's blond hair next. "I love holding you like this."

"And I love you holding me," John said, his hands sliding over Sherlock's. "It's nice."

"Mmm...yes it is." Just then, Sherlock's phone rang. "Bother."

John laughed. "You sound so disgruntled," he said, cupping his face enough to kiss him. "Answer it, love. I can wait for a little while."

"But I can't." Pulling it out of his pocket, he frowned when he recognized the number. "Mycroft." he said distastefully. He clicked it on. "What do you want? Don't you have a Detective Inspector to debauch?" He listened for a moment before shaking his head. "No."

"What?" John mouthed. seeing the alarmed look on his lover's face. 

"No," Sherlock repeated, more forcefully this time. "I don't care what he says. I refuse to see him. I'll see Mummy if I must, but Father can go straight back to the hell he crawled out of. And you can tell him so for me if you have the nerve." He listened some more. "No, brother mine. And you have no right to ask me to." Clicking off the phone in the middle of Mycroft's protests, he tossed it onto the fireplace mantle next to his skull, only just succeeding in not smashing it against the wall. "Blast it."

A concerned look crossed John's face. "What is it, love?" he asked gently.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I've deleted it already."

"No, you haven't. You wouldn't be this upset if you had." John gave him a look. "And it's not nothing. Now out with it or I'm calling Mycroft."

Sherlock stared at him. "You wouldn't."

John reached for his phone on the kitchen counter. "Try me."

Finally, Sherlock sighed and ran a hand through his curls. "Father has expressed an interest in meeting you," he said at last. "I said no."

"Why?" John asked. "Maybe I would like to meet your parents. You're more than welcome to meet mine."

"You don't understand, John." Sherlock began to explain. "Father will find every flaw in this relationship and drag it out for all to see. He won't approve of your service or your profession or the fact that you help me with cases." He walked into the kitchen, still visibly upset. "He won't approve of any of it. He never has."

John considered that for a moment. "And that matters to you." It wasn't a question. "It a;ways has, hasn't it. love?"

"Of course it has!" Sherlock exploded. Picking up a stray plate, he flung it into the sink where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock sagged against the stove, looking down at his shoes. He apologized with his eyes before choking out the words. "Sorry...I'm sorry, John."

"Shh, love. It's all right," John soothed as he led Sherlock back to the couch. He sat them both down. "I have you. I'm right here." 

"And thank God you are," Sherlock murmured as he put his head on John's shoulder. He closed his eyes. "I hate this...how me makes me feel. Like I'm seven all over again, trying desperately to please him."

"I know, love," John soothed. "But you don't have to see him. You're a grown man of relatively sound mind. You're not that scared little boy anymore."

"He won't stop until I do," Sherlock said forlornly. "And Mycroft won't do a thing either. He's too afraid of him doing the same thing to him concerning Lestrade."

"Maybe the two of you should pull together," john suggested. Sherlock gave him a look. "Okay. Maybe not then."

Sherlock curled into his arms. "I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't. Not ever." John began running his fingers through his lover's hair. It never failed to soothe him. "I'm not leaving you. Not now, not ever." He buried a kiss in his hair; he hated seeing Sherlock like this. "I love you."

"And I love you." Sherlock's voice was soft. "You are...you have become everything to me."

"And you always have been. From the first day I met you." Making a decision, John drew away enough so their eyes could meet. "Give me his number. I'll talk to him and straighten him out." A detirmined look crossed his face. "He'll leave us both alone by the time I'm done."

 _My brave Captain Watson,_ Sherlock thought with a surge of pride. "I can't ask that of you," he protested.

"You're not asking. And I refuse to let anyone treat you like that any longer, relation or not. He has no right to," John said firmly. "Not when I love you."

Sherlock visibly relaxed. "You're a remarkable man, John Watson," he said, kissing him yet again. "A truly remarkable man."

John shrugged. "Nothing remarkable about it," he said. "And if I am...it's because I have you." He paused. "I couldn't do anything else."

They settled together on the couch, simply enjoying the setting sun as it streamed through the windows of 221B. Tomorrow would be time enough for arguments and confrontations. For now, this was enough.


End file.
